AJ Seville: My Mediocre Life So Far
by MR J.H.F
Summary: The story of Alvin and Brittany's son, AJ. A comedy about family life, friendship and romance. All from AJ's point of view. Rated T for Moderate language and mild adult themes.
1. Introduction

**_Introduction:_**

**_MR J.H.F: _**

**_First things first I have to tell you that the AJ OC is not mine. It was created by Pokemon Ranger-Trainer. But the story is mine. (I don't get why people put 'I don't own Alvin and the Chipmunks' _**

_**Really?**_

_**So your telling me your are not a rich millionaire who owns five villa's and spends their time writing fan-fictions ?!**_

**_But don't take this personally if you do, I just don't see why people do it. Your not gonna get sued. Ross and Janice aren't gonna be pissed at you because you were inspired from there creation. Well it's was Ross Sr who created them first, but anyway you get the point.)_**

**_Secondly I am British so some of the grammar is a bit different. Such as ' Mom ' in England it is spelled 'Mum' if you need help recognising some of the words just PM me._**

**_This story is set in England, that's why I have used British grammar. If you don't like that then don't read it._**

**_Thirdly this story is a spin-off to one of my first story's ' Alvin Seville: My Shit life so far' _**

**_You do not need to read it to understand wants going on in this story. But If you like this story then I would recommend reading it. Like 'Alvin Seville: MSLSF' It is partly based on my own experiences. _**

**_Enjoy !_**


	2. Chapter 1

**_AJ Seville: My Mediocre Life So Far_**

**_Chapter One_**

Ding Dong! Was that the doorbell? You can never be too sure. I didn't get up to answer it. I waited for it to ring again to confirm my suspicions. I waited and listened. I listened by leaning my head forward and tilting it slightly to one side. Everyone knows that when you lean forward and tilt your head to one side the volume of life goes up.

Ding Dong! Now that made me jump, even though I was expecting it, like when I'm staring at my toaster waiting impatiently for my toast to pop up...when it does I jump, every time, never fails.

I've always disliked doorbells, but this has become worse since our family's into showbiz. Most people who have experienced success have this fear of getting caught, found out, the-dream-is-over-type fear. My own version of the fear is that the showbiz police have come to take it all back. I imagine them stood at the door in green tights and holding a scroll like those blokes out of Shrek 2. There's two of them, one plays an introductory bugle, the other clears his animated throat:

'I'm sorry, Mr Seville, but I have orders to tell you that you've had a good run, sunshine, but the time has come for you to go back to your cardboard-crushing job at Netto supermarket.' He puts his hand out. 'House and car keys please.'

But I wasn't enjoying any kind of success when the doorbell rang in 2034. There was a completely different reason for my fear. It was my driving instructor ringing the doorbell and the time had come for my first ever driving lesson.

Raymond was his name. He was a big burly fella, constantly tanned, like a cross between Bully from _Bullseye_ and a fat Des O'Conner. If you can picture that, then I think you need help.

It wasn't the first time I'd met Raymond. He'd been my mum's driving instructor a few years before. I'd often seen my mum sat nervously in Raymond's Montego by the side of the laundrette, which was directly opposite our house. Incidentally, ours was a Victorian terrace house, a bit like Coronation Street but with a posh four-foot garden at the front. For some reason every gable-end house was a shop. We had a fruit shop at one end of the row, a chippie at the other (Elizabeth's beautiful fish, before she moved to lytham) and directly opposite a TV-repair shop and the laundrette. I'd spent my life in that laundrette before we got a washing machine. My mum used to go in three times a week with three big bags and me in a pram. Apparently I used to sit in my pram singing 'Una Paloma Blanca' to the women.

Years later me and my sister Bridgette; used to play tennis up against the gable end of the laundrette during Wimbledon fortnight with the other local kids. That's where Raymond parked up smoking his pipe. Usually he'd be snapping at my mum because she was over-revving and couldn't find her biting point. But the advice must have paid off, because after three attemts my mum finally passed her test. We never bought a car though, My mum won't even consider it, she says there's too much traffic on the roads.

I can still remember the excitement waiting for my Uncle Tony to swing around the side of the laundrette in his navy Sierra ( well, if truth be told he wasn't my real uncle, but my dad had borrowed his orbital sander once, so he was as good as ). He was a tall, wiry man with a pencil moustache, a bit anaemic-looking. As long as I'd known him, he'd always looked as if he was at death's door, but he's seventy-two now and still banging on. He'll outlive us all. He would take Bridgette and me out for the day, usually to the seaside, or if it was raining he'd take us ice skating in Blackburn. I was just happy to be travelling in a car.

I was never a big fan of ice skating. I could never get the hang of it. That and the fact it's so bloody slippy out on the ice. I also think ice-skating rinks are a haven for paedophiles, skating around all day, hanging on to the kids heads, pretending to fall over. 'They should hang them on the Lottery', as my dad used to say. When the bodies drop, the feet set the balls rolling.

I took a girlfriend ice skating once on our second date and I fell and broke my arm in two places. Luckily the whole disaster worked out for the best as the girl took pity on my incompetence and eventually she married me (I hasten to add there was a five-year gap between the broken arm and the wedding day).

**_MR J.H.F:_** **_Oh yeah, this story is open to OC's if anyone wants to send one in I will be grateful. Thanks for reading and don't forget to tell me what you think !_**


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